Dead Center. Frank J. Daniels
.270. There was also a .22-caliber Ruger brand rifle and a .22-caliber pistol in the Bronco.
Investigator Armand listed the findings at the scene for later study.
He then collected the two rifles and the pistol from the Bronco.
Armand also made diagrams of the fence, showing the location of the gate and the bullet-holed post; a diagram of the scene with the body and various items of evidence; and another of the fence post showing the location of the bullet hole.
At this point, no one was sure how the man had been shot, so it was important that the preliminary findings on the scene be very carefully noted.
= chapter 3 =
Back on the Uncompahgre Plateau, investigators were fanning out. The Mesa County Search and Rescue Team and an Explorer Troop joined in the search for evidence at the crime scene by forming lines of searchers walking at arm’s length in straight lines, combing the area. Dan Faed, a retired Public Service lineman, had been a volunteer with the Search and Rescue team for the past ten years. He was an experienced game tracker and later worked as a hunting guide for twenty-six years. Chief of Police Rory Clark, from a small town nearby, volunteered to assist with metal detection. Chief Clark is self-taught in the use of metal detectors. A doctor once told him to do a lot of walking to help with a back problem, so he took up metal detection as a hobby. He has operated metal detectors for thousands of hours while searching for coins and other historical artifacts. He also had used them previously for law enforcement purposes. Shortly after beginning his search of the crime scene, Clark’s metal detector alerted him to the presence of a metal object in the clump of oak brush pointed out to him by Investigator Armand. Spreading apart some leaves and grass he found a shiny brass rifle casing lying on the ground. Chief Clark is originally from Texas, a quality he brandishes with great aplomb. He is well-known for coming out with a new off-color, redneck colloquialism of some sort each day and that day was no exception. “Well I’ll be dipped in shit and rolled in bran flakes.”
Dan Faed was examining the muddy boots Janice had left at the camper when he was told about the discovery of the shell casing. He immediately focused on that area. Before long, he located a boot sole impression that appeared to be consistent with Janice’s boots about forty feet from the shell casing in a direction away from Bruce’s body. Twenty feet from that impression, he found another print that was from a different, larger boot. Using a casting material called Hydrocal, a crime scene investigator with the Sheriff’s Department made casts of the two prints and collected them as evidence.
Although careful measurements of the location of the shell casing were taken, no one made measurements of the location of the boot prints. That would later prove to be a huge mistake.
It was at this juncture that I first became aware of the death of John Bruce Dodson. As District Attorney, I am notified whenever a death occurs under suspicious circumstances. In the beginning, all I heard was that a hunter had been found shot to death. Since my jurisdiction encompasses thousands of square miles of federal public lands, including some of the best public hunting areas in the West, and because this could have been an accidental death, I was not overly concerned. There are hunting-related firearms deaths just about every year in Colorado. Nevertheless something about Dodson’s death seemed peculiar and I asked my investigator, Bill Booth, to keep an eye on it.
We soon learned that, serendipitously, Brent Branchwater, who had been hunting on the Uncompahgre Plateau the day of John Bruce Dodson’s death and reported it, was a fellow law enforcement officer. In fact, he was a captain. Since it was clear that he would be a witness at future court proceedings, should there be any regarding Bruce’s death, Police Lieutenant Ron Finley asked Branchwater to write down, in his own words and from the perspective of a police officer, the events of that weekend and bring it to him. He agreed.
LOG OF EVENTS
Thursday, October 12, 1995: Arrive at campsite about 2:30 P.M. and set up camp. Scout the area until dark.
Friday, October 13, 1995: Ryan and I spend the day scouting. Return to camp around dark for dinner. Around 9:00 P.M., two vehicles arrive. One a red and white Bronco, the other a VW Camper. After some trouble getting into the opening from the road, both vehicles park on a rise just above our camp. We have no contact with the people.
Saturday, October 14, 1995: Ryan and I get up around 5:00 A.M., eat and head into the canyon by way of the 4 × 4 road over the ridge above camp. Hunt the entire day, having lunch from our packs. Around 3:30 P.M. I shoot a small deer. Ryan and I have to drag the deer from the bottom of the canyon to the truck. We get into camp late. The deer is hung, we take some photos, eat and go to bed.
Sunday, October 15, 1995: I plan to stay in camp to quarter my deer because the days are warm. Ryan gets up around 5 A.M. Before he eats and leaves, we make plans to go into town when Ryan comes in for lunch. We need more ice and are going to have a meal. About 7:00 A.M. while I’m still in bed in the tent, a shot goes off awakening me. The first shot is followed by hollering. I cannot tell what words are being hollered. I look at the clock to check the time. I could see 7:0-something showing. In a moment another shot goes off, then another, followed by the thump of a bullet strike. These two shots are clearly coming from the area in front of the people’s camp nearby. Not wanting to go out while there is shooting nearby, I lay in the tent until about 7:30 A.M. and then go out and head to the cook tent for some breakfast. I see a person in coveralls and orange vest and hat carrying a rifle up the tree line in front of the VW camper. The person is walking toward the vehicles.
After eating, I start skinning my deer and notice the same person come to the back of the Bronco. I now can see it is a female. She is dressed in blue jeans, sweater jacket, orange vest and sandals with white socks. She steps on the back bumper of the Bronco and pulls out a gun case. It is a brown soft case. With her back toward me, she puts the gun in the case and puts it in the back of the Bronco. She steps down, rolls the window up then turns and sees me. Neither of us acknowledges the other. I continue to skin the deer. When I get to quartering the meat a few minutes later, someone behind me says, “That’s a nice forky you have there.” I turn and find the aforementioned female standing behind me. She has a cup of water and a toothbrush in her hand. She begins a polite conversation asking about where we are from, who we are and what we do. I find she is originally from the same general area Ryan and I are from. I mention hearing shots and hollering and ask if one of her group got a deer. She says she has not heard any shooting or hollering from the area. She says her husband is on the mountain somewhere. This is his first deer hunt and she is hunting elk. She asks where my friend is and I tell